


A Little Inter-House Cooperation

by celeste9



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Banter, Bisexuality, F/M, Female Friendship, Past Relationship(s), Remix, Romance, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4174320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>God damn</i>, Clarke thought. All this because she had allegedly been seen kissing Bellamy in the corridor outside Potions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Inter-House Cooperation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peacefulboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefulboo/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sorting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3957142) by [peacefulboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefulboo/pseuds/peacefulboo). 



> Well, peacefulboo, I'm sure this isn't the fic you were expecting to get remixed, but the excuse to write a fusion of the 100 and Harry Potter was too good for me to resist! I've used your original House sortings for Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia, and Monty, plus a few of my own for characters who weren't sorted in your original fic. I really hope you enjoy it! With thanks to clea2011 and deinonychus_1 for beta as well as some input in regards to the sorting.

“It’s a love story for the ages,” Raven said, smirking.

“This is why Slytherins and Gryffindors aren’t supposed to be friends,” Clarke said, glowering down at her Charms textbook.

“I told you you would regret it,” Lexa (not so) helpfully piped in from where she was lying on her back in the grass, arms behind her head.

Clarke pushed at her with her toe. “No one likes a person who can’t stop saying, ‘I told you so’.”

“Slytherin. What can you do? It’s in my nature.”

“This is why you guys broke up, right?” Octavia asked. “I’m amazed we don’t hear about Slytherin couples murdering each other every day.”

Lexa tilted her head slightly, her eyes meeting Clarke’s. For an instant the blue of her eyes clouded with regret but then she smiled faintly and said, “We’re too busy murdering you self-righteous, crazy, annoying Gryffindors.”

Octavia stuck up her middle finger, which made Raven laugh.

“Seriously, though,” Raven said. “Stop distracting us from the point. Bellamy. Clarke. _Epic romance._ ”

“It’s not an epic romance!” Clarke insisted, slamming her book down onto the ground in frustration. “He’s just… He’s just…”

“Totally hot and less of an asshole than you originally thought? Or maybe you just like assholes after all. I guess we should have figured from the way you hated each other so vehemently that one day you were gonna bang.”

“Ew, gross, stop it!” Octavia said, covering her ears. “Not an image I need of my brother, thank you very little.”

“There has been no banging,” Clarke said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yet,” Raven added, which made even Lexa put a hand over her mouth to cover her chuckle.

 _God damn,_ Clarke thought. All this because she had allegedly been seen kissing Bellamy in the corridor outside Potions. Monty and Jasper had big mouths. Mostly Jasper.

It was a long story, really. Clarke had disliked Bellamy Blake from the moment she had first met him, a second year who acted like he ran the school.

_She first saw him in the hall, charming little paper airplanes to chase after the new first years, whizzing around their heads like insects._

_“What do you think you’re doing?” Clarke asked, stopping in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest. He was obviously older than her, and he was bigger than her, but Clarke wasn’t afraid of a dumb bully._

_Bellamy (she hadn’t known that was his name yet, but she would find out) directed his attention to her, a tiny smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. “Whatever the hell I want.”_

_A voice inside Clarke’s head that sounded an awful lot like her mother was shouting,_ don’t say it, don’t you dare say it--

_She said it. “Here I was thinking Hufflepuffs weren’t dicks.”_

_“Well, you’d be the expert on dicks, wouldn’t you? Being a Slytherin and all.”_

_“I guess they had to stick you in Hufflepuff, isn’t that where they put the ones no other House will take?”_

_“You clearly don’t know any Hufflepuffs,” he said, more amused than offended. “Who are you, anyway? One of the babies fresh off the Hogwarts Express?”_

_“I’m Clarke. Clarke Griffin.”_

_Bellamy’s eyes narrowed. “Clarke Griffin? As in daughter of the Head of Ravenclaw? She must be so proud to have her daughter sorted into Slytherin.”_

_“She is,” Clarke said, and left._

_She was. Clarke’s mother had always stressed that it didn’t matter what House you were sorted into, that each House had strong values and it only mattered how you chose to use those values._

_Except it mattered to Clarke. Slytherin. Slytherin was where the bad wizards came from, the dark wizards. Slytherins valued ambition and power. They would do anything to get what they wanted. She was afraid of what it could mean that the Sorting Hat had sat on top of Clarke’s head and then shouted, “Slytherin!”_

_Clarke’s mother said Slytherins were natural leaders, that they were smart and resourceful and cunning. Ambition was a trait to be proud of, she said. “You can be great, Clarke,” she had said. “You can do great things and Slytherin can help you to do them, as long as you always remember who you are.”_

_At eleven going on twelve, Clarke wasn’t entirely sure_ who _she was. But she wanted to be good. She wanted to make her mother proud._

_Maybe that would be enough._

Anyway, that was moving away from the point. At sixteen, Clarke knew that Slytherin was where she belonged. Clarke had dreams and goals and she had made better friends in Slytherin than she could ever have thought possible, that first day in the Great Hall.

Like Lexa. Lexa… She would always be in Clarke’s heart, even if room had been made there for someone like Bellamy.

Bellamy, whom Clarke had branded a dick immediately. It was funny how often you could run into someone when you didn’t want to. Clarke and Bellamy weren’t even in the same year, let alone the same House, and yet somehow he always seemed to be around.

The most annoying, self-serving Hufflepuff there ever was. Wells had been fond of telling Clarke that Bellamy wasn’t so bad, really, when you got to know him. Of course, he usually ended up saying that five minutes after he’d had to act as peacekeeper.

Sometimes Wells was successful. Sometimes he wasn’t.

_“Scared yet, Princess?” Bellamy said, crunching leaves underfoot. If there really was something dangerous in the Forbidden Forest, they weren’t going to sneak up on it._

_“Call me that one more time and I’ll start practicing cursing you. ‘What’s that, Professor Sinclair? I wasn’t supposed to practice on another student? I’m so sorry, I just wanted to see if I could get the spell right.’”_

_“And risk ten points from Slytherin? I doubt it.”_

_“Still wouldn’t give Hufflepuff a chance. How many years running have you finished last in the House Cup?”_

_“That was before they had me on the Quidditch team. Just wait till next year.”_

_“Talk to me again when you’ve actually made the team,” Clarke said. She rubbed her arms, wishing her sweater was thicker. “This is stupid. You’ve got me in here, isn’t that good enough for your stupid dare?”_

_“Not quite. We haven’t seen anything yet.”_

_“And we aren’t likely to, not with all the racket you’re making.”_

_Bellamy huffed in incredulity. “Me? You aren’t exactly light on your feet, you know.”_

_“You could stop talking at least,” Clarke said, striding forward and leaving Bellamy to catch up._

_There was blessed silence after that. Well, sort of. Clarke didn’t miss the aggravating sound of Bellamy’s voice, but the quiet made all the sounds of the forest more noticeable. She felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck, a little frightened in spite of herself. If her mother knew she was out here…_

_“Wait,” Bellamy said suddenly, holding his arm out to block Clarke’s passage._

_Annoyed, Clarke stopped and glared at him, pushing his arm away._

_Then she saw it._

_The unicorn was virtually glowing in the moonlight, its white coat catching the light amidst the dark of the trees. It turned to look at them, blinking its large, liquid eyes at them, watching for one second, two, three._

_It bounded off, and Clarke felt herself sigh for the loss of it. She had never seen anything so beautiful in all her life and she wasn’t sure she ever would again._

_For a moment Bellamy only stood there beside her, his silence a mark of the reverence they shared, and then he ruined it. “You can thank me now or later, whenever it suits you.”_

_Clarke shoved him and spun around, stomping back the way they had come. “I won your dumb dare, so let’s go.”_

So. He was a dick. But that had all been before Octavia.

Octavia had arrived at Hogwarts for Clarke’s second year. Tiny and young, a bit withdrawn, a bit shy. Her mother had died recently, Clarke learned, leaving her with only her brother Bellamy.

Poor girl, _Clarke thought at first, until she actually saw them together._

_Clarke didn’t have any siblings. She had no real reference for how siblings behaved, or how it felt to have one. When she watched Bellamy and Octavia, though? She kind of wished she had a brother._

_Shy little Octavia lit up when her Hufflepuff brother came to join her at the Gryffindor table, plopping down at her side amidst all the other first years. She positively glowed, chattering about anything and everything, and Bellamy looked at her like she was the center of his entire world._

Well, _Clarke thought._ There was that Hufflepuff loyalty, at least.

_To be honest, maybe Clarke had seen it before. Bellamy loved his friends. But he didn’t love anyone like he loved Octavia, and she made him better._

_Clarke didn’t know Octavia well. She was a year younger, and she was a Gryffindor. That was why it was a bit bewildering when she found the girl crying on the steps, alone._

_Clarke looked around frantically, hoping someone would be there to deal with this. A Gryffindor, preferably. Or Octavia’s brother. For once she actually would be glad to see Bellamy. Unfortunately, no one appeared to her rescue._

_“Um,” Clarke said. “Are you okay?”_

_Octavia visibly startled, clearly not having heard Clarke approach. She dragged the end of her sleeve over her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, sniffling, though her eyes shone with defiance, as if daring Clarke to make something of this._

_Clarke only sat down beside her. “It’s okay, if you’re not. I didn’t… I didn’t have much fun here to start with, either.”_

_As if unsure to believe a Slytherin was voluntarily being nice to her, Octavia hesitated before saying, “Really?”_

_“Yeah, really. I hated being in Slytherin. I thought everyone must be a jerk, that there would be no one like me, and I thought everyone else would hate me for my House. Or for my mother. No one wants to be the professor’s kid.”_

_“Your mother? Professor Griffin?”_

_“That’s the one.”_

_“Was she sorry you weren’t sorted into Ravenclaw?”_

_“Not as sorry as I was.”_

_Octavia’s eyes widened in surprise. “I thought all Slytherins loved their House.”_

_“Nah, even Slytherins can worry. But I don’t feel that way anymore.” Clarke paused, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. “I know it’s hard, but you’ll find where you belong.”_

_The guardedness had left Octavia’s face, to be replaced with gratitude._

_Which, of course, was when Bellamy cleared his throat._

_Clarke barely stopped herself from jumping._

_“Sorry. Didn’t meant to interrupt. You okay, Octavia?”_

_Octavia stood up, smiling brightly, all trace of tears gone. She hugged Bellamy around his waist and said, “Awesome. I’m gonna head in, okay?”_

_Bellamy just watched her run off towards Gryffindor Tower, seeming slightly bemused._

_Clarke ran a hand through her hair and got up, trying not to look as uncomfortable as she felt. “See you around, I guess.”_

_Before she could leave, Bellamy reached out to catch hold of her elbow. “I, uh, caught the end of your conversation. Thank you.”_

_His sincerity made Clarke feel even less comfortable, and she shrugged away from him. “Yeah, no problem.” She started to move away down the corridor._

_Still not done, apparently, Bellamy called after her, “For what it’s worth, you’re not so bad. For a Slytherin.”_

_Clarke tried not to smile, she did. “And I guess you’re okay. For a Hufflepuff.”_

And thus an uneasy truce was born. Bellamy seemed to have grown up during that summer between his second and third year, and maybe he had. Losing a parent would do that to you (Clarke would know). He was smarter than Clarke had given him credit for, and he was as dutiful and hard-working as you might expect a Hufflepuff to be, if a bit… cockier, maybe. She noticed him in the library, studying, sometimes alone, more often with Lincoln or his other friends.

_“Hey,” Bellamy said, sliding into a seat at the table across from Clarke._

_“No talking in the library,” Clarke said as quietly as she could, not so much as glancing up from her History of Magic notes._

_“What, are you a Ravenclaw now?”_

_“No, I’m just someone who doesn’t want to flunk their exam.”_

_“I don’t see that happening,” Bellamy said, and Clarke had to look at him to gauge whether he was making fun of her._

_He didn’t appear to be. Actually, he seemed completely serious. That only made Clarke feel faintly unnerved so she turned away from him again._

_“I could help you study.”_

_Clarke narrowed her eyes at him._

_“I, uh, I actually get mostly good scores, you know,” Bellamy said, a little bit proud, a little bit defensive, and a little bit embarrassed. “I had all this last year. I could help you.”_

_“Okay,” Clarke said after a few moments more of trying to figure out what Bellamy was doing, what he was thinking, what he wanted out of this. She gave up trying because he was impossible to fathom most of the time, deciding she might as well just go with it. “But not here,” she said as she gathered up her things. “No talking in the library.”_

_“Yes, ma’am,” Bellamy said, and his smirk only made Clarke want to smack him a little._

They got older, as all children do. Bellamy had somehow turned into one of those boys that all the girls want to kiss, one of those boys that inspire giggling and blushing and the sort of behavior that makes you roll your eyes at yourself five years later. He certainly never lacked for company.

Objectively speaking, Clarke had seen the appeal even then. He was tall and he had great hair. He was still kind of a dick, but mostly in an endearing way. Not that she had ever admitted that outside her own head. She hadn’t even liked admitting to it in her head.

But while Bellamy was flitting from available girl to available girl, Clarke was busy falling in love with Lexa. Beautiful, clever, brittle Lexa, who let Clarke see her like she never allowed anyone else to. Quite frankly, Clarke hadn’t had the time (nor the desire) to look at anyone else while her gaze was filled with Lexa.

(Nothing actually happened until fifth year. Fifth year was the Year of Lexa. For a while it was good, so good, until it wasn’t. Clarke could never say who had broken whose heart, and she thought probably they had broken each other’s hearts. She was never sure if it was luck or a miracle that salvaged their friendship. Maybe both, along with a large dose of hard work.)

_Bellamy caught her sketching once, early in the morning in the Great Gall while most of the other students were still asleep. Clarke hadn’t been able to sleep and eventually just gave up, wandering down to the Great Hall for tea and quiet._

_“So what do you do,” he asked her, sitting next to her uninvited, “keep a creepy scrapbook filled with pictures of her? Or do you abandon the line of creepiness and give them to her as gifts?”_

_Clarke blinked down at the half-finished sketch of Lexa. She hadn’t even made a conscious decision to draw Lexa, but when she’d set pencil to paper she had almost automatically gravitated to Lexa’s face. She supposed Lexa might have been on her mind a lot lately. Possibly._

_She crumpled up the parchment. “What are you doing here?”_

_“I could ask you the same thing.”_

_“I think the Hufflepuff table is over there.”_

_“Maybe I wanted to promote a little inter-House cooperation. Hey,” Bellamy said, as if something brilliant had just occurred to him. “I know, you can switch to drawing a truly magnificent subject.”_

_“Don’t tell me,” Clarke said, voice flat. “Yourself.”_

_“Maybe you belong in Ravenclaw after all. Look at that power of deduction.”_

_“You’re such an ass.”_

_“And yet somehow you still enjoy me,” Bellamy said, standing up. “For what it’s worth, I’m totally team Clarke/Lexa. The stuff of male fantasies, definitely.”_

_Clarke threw the crumpled ball of parchment at the back of his head._

In his fifth year, Bellamy was named prefect. Clarke remembered thinking how it had all seemed so inevitable. She’d thought he would probably end up Head Boy, too, and that seemed right. A tiny part of her that she had squashed immediately had resented the gap of a year in their ages which meant they couldn’t be Head Boy and Head Girl together. (Because of course Clarke was going to be Head Girl. She had goals, remember, and the students trusted her. So did the professors.) They would have been a good team, Clarke thought, each balancing the other. Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

There was Quidditch, too. Bellamy was great at Quidditch. And the thing was, Clarke wasn’t supposed to cheer for Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff was the enemy.

But damn if she didn’t get a thrill watching Bellamy race by on his broom, swinging that bat and sending a Bludger flying towards the opposing team. Which sometimes meant her own House.

_“Slytherin’s losing half their team after this season,” Bellamy said to her once, his hair still damp from the shower. Clarke had only been looking for Lexa, but she’d found Bellamy instead. “You should try out.”_

_“Looking for a sanctioned excuse to hit me?”_

_“Maybe I just think you’d look sexy in the uniform,” he said with that stupid, amazing smile of his, before leaving Clarke to roll her eyes at his back._

(She did try out for the Quidditch team, and it had nothing to do with Bellamy. She made it.)

Yeah, the uniform certainly suited Bellamy. He didn’t look half bad after matches, either, his hair curling and his face flushed and sweaty.

Wait, what? Was she actually admitting to that?

Okay, fine. She was.

That didn’t mean he didn’t still drive her crazy.

_“Where’s your entourage?” he asked one afternoon in Hogsmeade, inviting himself to sit down on the bench beside her where Clarke was watching the other students pass by._

_“I don’t have an entourage.”_

_“Whatever you say, Princess.”_

_“Don’t call me that. Besides, you’re the one that’s always got a crowd following you, like you’re some kind of--”_

_“Some kind of what?” Bellamy prompted when Clarke hesitated. “I want to know what you were going to say.”_

Like some kind of rock star, _was what Clarke had actually been going to say, but she couldn’t say that. No need to puff up his ego any more than it already was. “Like an asshole,” she said instead._

_Bellamy laughed. “Oh, okay. That definitely makes sense.”_

_“Shut up,” Clarke said, lamely, she knew, but she was too busy feeling embarrassed to think of a decent comeback._

_“Honestly I was only asking because I thought you might know where my sister is.”_

_“You’d be better off asking your buddy Lincoln.”_

_Wincing, Bellamy said, “That’s what I thought.”_

_Clarke tried to read his expression. “You don’t like it?”_

_“No, it’s not that, it’s just… She’s my sister, you know?”_

_“No, I wouldn’t know.”_

_“Right. No siblings. It’s like this. Lincoln’s my best friend, and I’d trust him with my life. He actually asked my permission to start talking to her. But… But Octavia’s my_ family. _She’s all I have, and I’m all she has. She’s my responsibility and I’m always gonna worry about her, no matter what. And… And if she starts going out with Lincoln…”_

_“Not only is she growing up, but she might need him more than she needs you,” Clarke finished, because it suddenly made sense. She felt sad for him._

_Bellamy nodded, silent._

_“I won’t pretend to understand, and I’m not sure if this helps, but Octavia is lucky to have you and I think she knows that. She loves you, and nothing will ever change that. Not Lincoln, not anyone.” Clarke shifted, biting her lip. Oh, damn. She’d gone and made it awkward, hadn’t she?_

_Except Bellamy only said, half under his breath, “Thanks.”_

_They sat there for a while, eyes on everything but each other, until Bellamy said, “Have you had your meeting with Professor Kane yet? To talk about what you want to do?”_

_Grateful for the change of subject, Clarke replied, “Yeah.”_

_“And?”_

_Clarke wasn’t entirely sure why Bellamy cared, nor why she wanted him to, but she said, “Healing. I want to be a Healer. My mother was, before Hogwarts, and I… I don’t know. I just want to help people.”_

_“That’s my Princess,” Bellamy said, but his tone was more gentle than teasing, and he even looked proud, a little bit. Or maybe that was only Clarke’s imagination._

_“Clarke! Hey, Clarke!”_

_She turned away from Bellamy to watch Raven running towards her, Finn in tow. “There you are! We’re going into Honeydukes, you want to join us?”_

_“Okay, sure,” Clarke said, standing up. Somewhat awkwardly, she muttered, “See you around,” to Bellamy._

_“See you,” he echoed._

_Raven cast him an inquisitive look but didn’t say anything (for the moment, at least), simply linking arms with Clarke instead and pulling her off down the road._

That had been three weeks ago. After that…

Well, she’d kissed him three days ago, so. That was probably all anyone needed to know.

As a matter of fact, it was more than most people needed to know.

“How was he?” Raven pestered her. “He was good, right? I bet he was good. All the girls say he’s--” She stopped, as if realizing what she was saying. She coughed. “Er, I mean, I imagine. Just. He’s hot? And his mouth is nice? So I imagine he’d be a good kisser.”

“Smooth,” Octavia said, and Lexa was still pretending like she didn’t find the entire thing hilarious.

“I hate you all,” Clarke declared, grabbing her abandoned Charms book and climbing to her feet.

“If you’re meeting Prince Charming I’m gonna want the deets later!” Raven shouted after her.

Clarke was sorely tempted to hex a wart onto her nose or something, but in an admirable display of restraint, she chose simply to ignore Raven instead.

She found Bellamy by the lake with Lincoln, tossing pieces of toast to the Giant Squid.

Lincoln took one look at Clarke before eyeing Bellamy knowingly and clambering to his feet. “Hi, Clarke.”

“Lincoln,” she said, nodding to him.

“I have that thing with Indra,” he said to Bellamy. “See you back at the Common Room? Or not,” he added with a smirk.

Bellamy threw a bit of toast at Lincoln’s retreating back.

“Subtle,” Clarke said, sitting down and hugging her knees to her chest.

“I assume you’ve been similarly harassed recently.”

“You assume right.”

“At least I know I don’t suffer alone.”

“You’re so romantic.”

“Hey, don’t pretend you like me because I’m romantic.”

“I’m not sure I like you at all, pretend or otherwise.”

“You wound me, Clarke,” Bellamy said, mock dramatically. “You wound me deeply. I thought our bond was stronger than… well, something that’s strong. I don’t know, I lost it at the end there.”

Clarke laughed. He was such a dork. “Raven thinks we’re living some grand love story.”

“I don’t know about that, but it could be a romcom, at least. Antagonism and dislike melt into passionate love-making.”

“Whoa there, tiger, who said anything about passionate love-making?”

“You will, once you’ve let me seduce you.”

“I hope you’re ready to wait a long, long time, then. Indefinitely, even.”

“Oh, you say that now,” Bellamy said, waggling his eyebrows.

 _Seriously, how is he so ridiculous and so hot at the same time? Truly one of the great unsolved mysteries of our time,_ Clarke thought.

Bellamy was watching her, his eyes filled with that intensity that made Clarke’s heart race and her toes curl.If she kissed him now, she would really be doing this. There were students everywhere, not just a couple of mouthy Ravenclaws in the wrong place at the wrong time. If she kissed him now, she would as good as say, _yes, Bellamy, Bellamy and me, we’re gonna try this, he’ll be mine and I’ll be his, and this is real._

_This is real. I want this to be real._

Clarke kissed him, there by the lake. She raised her hand to cup his cheek, his skin warm from the sun, and let him pull her closer.

“Like I said. You’re not so bad, for a Slytherin,” Bellamy said, his lips ghosting over hers.

Clarke smiled into his mouth. “Same to you, Hufflepuff.”

**_End_ **


End file.
